


the fool you need

by crucify (victimsoul)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, M/M, Season 4 alternate ending, Violence, descriptions of injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23086555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victimsoul/pseuds/crucify
Summary: Martin agrees to Jon's plan to leave the institute.(MAG154 alternate ending)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	the fool you need

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this right after listening to mag154 (with vague knowledge of the rest of the season) so if its inconsistent with the rest of season 4 (in ways i didnt intend). well i guess thats on me.

“We could just leave. I mean, whatever their plan is for me, I am damn sure that doing that isn’t it. I’d derail everything- we could derail everything, and then just- leave!”

Martin gave a short involuntary laugh at that, like he was trying to cough up a bitter pill. Who was Jon trying to kid? He knew better than that, he knew _Jon_ better than that and he knew the forces at play better than that. It couldn’t be that easy. 

But… He wanted to believe Jon.

What if it _could_ be that easy? What if they could gouge their eyes out (and it was so stupid that permanently maiming themselves was the easy way out) and just leave this place, give Elias and Peter the finger and run away together?

What if he could save Jon? The other desires he had laid out to Tim what seemed like lifetimes ago had slipped out of his grasp one by one, but… Maybe he could still achieve this one. 

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

Jon stopped his manic pacing and turned fully to face Martin. “Really?”

Martin sighed and pushed his hair back, but gave a soft, weary smile. “Yeah. We can leave here together, right? I thought you’d never ask.”

Jon grinned back and ran around the desk to hug Martin. He leaned into Martin’s shoulder and whispered “Thank you,” into his ear. 

They stayed in that uncomfortable position, Martin bent over backwards and Jon leaning over him, for a couple minutes, neither daring to break contact first.

* * *

They made the arrangements. Jon didn’t want to tell anyone about their plan until they went through with it, so most of the arrangements fell to Martin. They didn’t want to sever their connection to the institute while in the institute, and Jon revealed that he hadn’t exactly… found a new place to live since his coma, so they resolved to do it in Martin’s flat.

Then the day came.

Jon helped Martin to move his furniture to the edges of his living room and laid towels down in the center. Jon sterilized the awl while Martin made tea to calm himself down. Jon insisted on going first, and Martin conceded. He wanted to be there to take care of Jon if anything went wrong, and if it didn’t, he could sever his connection next. They sat on the floor and Jon held the awl to his eye.

For one glorious moment, it looked like it worked. Jon was in pain, but he was fine. They both were. it worked, they really could leave the tangled web of manipulation and scheming and fear and otherworldly power that had them trapped for so long. Jon embraced Martin, and they embraced on the floor of Martin’s flat for a moment before Martin would bandage Jon’s eyes. 

And then everything went to shit. 

The first thing Martin knew was wrong was when Jon inhaled sharply next to his ear. His breathing became labored and Martin realized they were covered in much more blood than they should be. He almost didn’t want to look, like if he didn’t look at Jon whatever was happening wouldn’t be happening, and he could pretend their plan had worked.

But he did look. He could tell Jon would topple over if he let go, so he laid him down on the towels they had set up for the procedure. When he saw what had become of Jon, he rushed into the kitchen to vomit in the sink before returning.

Jon looked _horrible_. All the scars of the past two or three years had reopened, and any piece of skin unscarred was bruised. It was hard to tell if any part of him wasn’t injured. His chest still barely rose but when it did, it came with small gasps of pain from the man. Martin knelt down on the floor, unsure where to touch without hurting him. Martin started crying.

It took Martin a few tries to get the question out through his overpowering sobs. “Did you… Did you know this would happen?” Martin asked, voice weak. 

Jon struggled to get his answer out, his lungs now crushed as they should have been after the explosion at the Unknowing. Then he gave up, nodding weakly. He forced out the words, “I’m... Sorry... Martin.”

Martin could only weep as he watched the only person he had left bleed to death on the floor of his apartment. Jon closed his eyes, no longer able to even think through the pain. Martin scrambled to find his phone among the supplies he had gathered for their mission, struggling to unlock it with the blood on his hands. He scrolled through his contacts, barely able to see through his tears. It was then he realized the only phone numbers in his phone anymore belonged to the dead or dying. Instead of Daisy, Basira, or Melanie, he could only call the probably long-disconnected phones of Tim, Sasha, or his mother. In that moment, he was completely alone in the world. Despite his betrayal, Peter would be proud, Martin thought bitterly. With no other options, Martin dialed 999 and held the phone to his ear, counting his breaths in an attempt to calm his weeping down enough to be able to talk to the operator. He heard the click of someone answering his call and immediately started speaking.

“Someone’s dying, they’ve been heavily wounded at, uh, 18, uh, Abbey Cl-”

“Calm down, Martin.”

Martin’s mouth snapped shut as he heard an all too familiar voice come through his phone. Had he accidentally called a wrong number? He checked his phone screen, only to see it didn’t display _any_ number where the phone number he called should be. He put the phone back up to his ear.

“Elias, wh-what are you… W-... Why?!”

“Now, I promised Peter I wouldn’t meddle with his new assistant, but clearly the rules of the game have changed, and you were mine first. Now I will ask you one question, and before you answer, remember what this scene will look like to the police you were about to call. Will you be my new Archivist?”

Martin didn’t even bother to move the phone away from his face or muffle his cries as he let out an involuntary sob at the question.

Elias spoke again. “The police are on their way. The next time this phone rings, I want an answer. You have five minutes.” He hung up.

At the sound of the call ending, the phone fell out of Martin’s hand. He looked over to Jon and realized his chest was no longer moving and he wailed again.

“No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no… This can’t be happening.” Martin leaned over the body on the ground and gingerly felt for Jon’s pulse. He found what he had feared; Jon’s heart was no longer beating.

In a last ditch effort, Martin attempted to use the CPR training he had learned years ago from a week of classes he needed for a part-time job to revive Jon. His chest compressions only succeeded in showing Martin just how badly broken Jon’s ribs were, and he stopped short after two, unwilling to further injure the area. He pushed himself away from what was only a few minutes ago a living, breathing Jon, but underestimated his strength and only succeeded in falling backwards and hitting his head on a chair. He lay on his back, sobbing too hard to even make a sound, then checked to see how long he had left. 

Only two minutes had passed since his call with Elias, but it had felt like an eternity. He thought he could hear sirens in the distance, but he wasn’t sure if he was imagining it in his hysteria. He had to make a decision.

Which was the lesser of two evils? Living in jail alone forever, at the mercy of whatever powers would still use him as a pawn, but free of a master? He knew what had happened to Robert Montauk. Or to be at the mercy of the known evil that had been tormenting him for years and had killed his only remaining friends with the autonomy of an Archivist? What would Tim and Sasha have wanted? What would Jon have wanted? ...What did he want, the only survivor?

He picked up his phone and dialed 999 again to give Elias his answer.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave comments <:)


End file.
